


King of Warnings

by tlarn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Japanese Mythology & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 15:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlarn/pseuds/tlarn
Summary: It was once thought that messengers from the Palace of the Sea Dragon warned the people of Japan of great calamities. In a rural town, this legend is still believed by the people there.





	King of Warnings

A man in Japan recently moved into a large rural home shared by several tenants. It was fairly cheap, close to his new job, and had utilities rolled into the cost of rent. He even had a view of the ocean from his window on clear days. While he was settling in, unboxing his things and getting his furniture in place, he’d leave the window open to let the sea breeze in. The smell of the ocean permeated the space, helped him calm down from long days at work.

 

On trash days, he’d gather up his rubbish organized into recyclables and burnables and take it outside to a collection point. He’d meet the other tenants this way. He was surprised by how often he ran into them; usually he’d leave early and arrive late, but everyone who talked to him would greet him, make smalltalk, and sometimes offer advice and guidance. It was as if everyone in the home was one big family.

 

There was one tenant, an old woman who owned the home, who would constantly seek him out when she saw him. He thought it was a nuisance at first, but over time, he looked to her as a lonely grandmother who wanted someone younger to dote on. She’d always have extra food cooked just for him, and would make something else if he mentioned his likes and dislikes.

 

He didn’t not like it. He was used to living on his own, so it was nice to have cooked meals that someone else made. Alongside the meals, she always had peculiar stories to share about the town, such as one local legend. It was said that the palace of a great sea dragon was somewhere in the ocean nearby. While the head of the house and his servants keep to themselves, they send messengers to the coast to warn them of earthquakes and typhoons. He nodded along quietly just as he did with each other story, sometimes politely feigning interest and sometimes not.

 

One cloudy day, the landline phone at the ground floor went off. It happened often enough that he paid it no mind, but it was curious that it kept ringing for so long. The old woman would usually pick up by now. He left his room and went downstairs to pick it up, to at least take a message for whoever was calling.

 

“Hello,” a nervous voice with a peculiar city-slicker accent said on the other line. The man tried to speak, but he was interrupted; it was a recorded, stilted reading from a script. “This is a call from the emergency broadcast network. We are calling to let you know that a strong earthquake will be occurring one week from today. There will be further reports if anything changes. For now, follow the instructions and drills as they have been provided to your area. For more details, please call our information line. Thank you for your cooperation.”

 

With a quizzical look, the man took down the message on a nearby notepad just the same.

 

The old woman didn’t come back to the home until the afternoon, arms filled with grocery bags. As he helped her bring the groceries in and sort them, he told her of the message, showing her the note.

 

As she read it, her face went white. With a speed he hadn’t seen before, she ran to the phone to make several calls to her neighbors and family, and flew to the rooms of the other tenants to repeat the message from the call. Everyone’s expressionslooked just as grave. What followed was what looked like a ritual to him, people grabbing backpacks and bags and filling them with small goods and clothes.

 

The man voiced his confusion once everyone was finished. There’s no way someone can predict earthquakes like that, there were surprises all the time. The tenants, now come after their preparations, laughed. They thought he knew already, since the cost of the service was part of the rent.

 

* * *

 

A few days pass. By now, all the tenants except the old woman have left the home, taking their emergency bags with them. She was the last to leave, and begged the man one last time to come with him. He refused. Leaving just because someone over the phone said there’d be an earthquake was ridiculous. With a sad gaze, she left him a copy of the keys to the home, a booklet of safety instructions, and then left for the train station.

 

On the supposed day of the earthquake, there was a terrible thunderstorm. Rain came down in sheets, the roads hopelessly flooded. If he wanted to leave, it’d be difficult now.

 

The phone rang. On the other line was the old woman, checking in on him. Have you read the booklet, she asked. He gave it a once-over, but didn’t think much of it. It was standard instructions for severe weather, including evacuation routes: nothing he felt he had to commit to memory. He told her that he had read all of it. She sounded relieved; he was glad to help her feel a bit better about this situation.

 

He hung up the phone, but a few minutes later it rang again. Did the old woman forget something?

 

“Hello?” he said.

 

“Why are you still there? There’s about to be an earthquake!” said a panicked voice. It wasn’t the old woman, or the other tenants. It was the voice from the recording.

 

Before he could ask a question, they hung up.

 

In the silence of the home, the rain seemed to crash down harder. A shadow came over the nearby window. As he approached it to see what could’ve made it, the phone rang again. He let it ring.

 

It was difficult to see anything past the rain; the farthest he could see was a short ways down the road in front of the house before it turned into a screen of grey. In a moment, something flew up to the glass. A giant silvery serpentine body with a fan-like tail at its end, and red tendril-like fronds floated atop its fish-like head. If he looked close, it was in fact something like a fish.

 

Its eye turned to him, and a fishy look of shock followed by indignation came across its face. A tendril disappeared behind it, and then returned with a large mobile phone curled in its grasp. As it used its comparatively tiny pectoral fin to dial a number, the man wondered how it was swimming.

 

The phone rang. As he stared at the giant floating fish, it impatiently gestured its head to his phone while it held its own to the side of its face. He picked up.

 

“Friggin’ find a safe place, the earthquake’s about to start!!” said the voice with a city-slicker accent.

 

* * *

 

_Today’s earthquake caused some damage, but thankfully no fatalities, all thanks to the efforts of a brave oarfish who took to land to look for people who stayed behind. The oarfish was taken to a hospital once first-responders arrived on the scene. When asked for comment, the oarfish said, “you know how ****ing hard it is to start up a localized thunderstorm so I don’t dry out? It’s a bunch of bureaucratic bull**** but ya gotta do what ya gotta do to keep people safe. We work hard to keep you guys in the know, you know? When we tell ya to leave, please-- just-- ****ing leave! Anyway, thank ya for the cooperation.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This short story is inspired by the educational segment about the Giant Oarfish from the Let's-Play series of the videogame "Endless Ocean" by Zorak and Chorocojo. You can see the segment here! (pro-tip watch it through to the end) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTA0FTw0gAg


End file.
